


Sensory Perception

by skybound2



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skybound2/pseuds/skybound2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traveling with Duncan to Ostagar, Neria Surana experiences the world outside of the Circle for the first time, and finds it full of wonders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sensory Perception

**Author's Note:**

> **Author Notes:** You ever go on your writing drive and discover stories that you've written AGES ago but never shared? Well I have, and this is one of them! Written about a month after DA:O was released, this has sat squirreled away on my drive ever since. I figured it was time to change that. I hope you enjoy!

It's not like Neria thought it would be, the outside world. She has memories, little fleeting thoughts that buzz around her brain, of when she was a child. There was nothing warm, or happy about that time. She remembers being hungry often, and cold always. Her clothing was sparse, and little more than rags. The cot she'd shared with another, smaller girl, was threadbare and worn. And everything smelled of dust.

It was not a happy place, that home that was not a home – in that time before she'd been collected and hauled to the Circle.

Now, as they make their way south, through the Hinterlands, she can't help but marvel at all of the colors and sounds that assault her senses on the way from Lothering. In the downtime (of which there is little), she finds herself mesmerized by the tiniest things along the road. A patch of bluebells growing out of a crack in a rock. A little red bird, tittering on a branch overhead. A flair of orange and yellow in her periphery turns out to be a fox, bounding after some small prey.

There were flowers in the Circle, to be sure. But they were always medicinal (or magical) in nature. She has been able to identify no less than six varieties of elfroot since she was ten, and has been well versed in the places deep mushrooms were most likely to be found since she was fourteen. But she had never anticipated getting to _use_  all of that knowledge out in the real world. They were trained, they were all _so well trained_ , that questioning why they needed to learn offensive magic, or how to make potions without the typical supplies just wasn't done.

Sure, they'd all had their moments of rebellion. What child hadn't? She had demonstrated her anger at being summarily locked up for life by deciding that she was going to run off to join the Dalish. She had even managed to convince Jowan to give her what she _thought_  was a traditional facial tattoo. Nevermind that it turned out to be little more than gibberish. Or that in retrospect it was likely Jowan's first encounter with any kind of blood magic...

She shakes herself from her thoughts, best not to think about that.

No, it is better instead to focus on the world around her, and on the glistening droplet of rain that just miraculously landed on the middle of her head. Her skin tingles wherever the water touches, setting her senses aflame. As the droplets begin to fall, heavier with each passing second, she can't help but laugh. Loud, and uproariously. She bounds into the center of the small camp that Duncan and her have made and twirls, arms outstretched, palms up; her hair plastering itself in a tangled, dark crimson mess against her scalp. She spins and smiles and  _laughs_.

"By Andraste! What are you doing, child?" Duncan's voice, bafflement lacing the words, is all but drowned out by the rain.

She turns her eyes to him, gracing him with her most brilliant smile. "What does it look like I'm doing, Grey Warden! I believe, the Wilder folk call this a rain dance!"

His face splits into a half-grin, "It appears you've been successful. Best stop before all of our gear becomes water-logged."

She whirls again, sidestepping the debris in her path as she makes her way, in a twisting dance, over to Duncan. In one clumsy, but spirited move, she grabs his hand and pulls him into her twirl.

Around and around they go, their feet skip-hopping across the uneven ground as the expression upon his face morphs from confusion, to surprise, to delight; until finally he's joining her in her laughter, and she feels liberated in a way that she has never before dreamed.

Eventually, the wet ground and their fast-paced movement gets the best of her, and she loses her footing on an otherwise innocuous stone. She tumbles back, and out of his arms, landing with an undignified splat on the mud-covered ground.

She stares up at his concerned gaze, unable to keep the smile and laughter at bay. A moment later, and she's laughing hard enough to draw all the breath from her body, so happy is she at the feel of the gooey mess covering her body.

For what does it matter if she's a little dirty?

She is  _free_.

~End


End file.
